Suddenly, Raio's voice rang out across the courtyard, firm and commanding: "You're wearing it wrong!"
Saiki froze in place, her face clearly showing irritation. Raio stood there, watching her with eyes that held an undeniable air of challenge, scrutinizing every imprecise move. She felt a wave of embarrassment as all eyes turned toward her.
She fumbled to adjust the suit quickly, but his words echoed in her mind. I know I'm wearing it wrong, but why can't he just leave me alone? She wanted to yell at him, but she gave herself a moment to breathe and calm her nerves. There was no room for mistakes, especially under his gaze.
Step by step, Raio approached her, his eyes locked on every minor detail of her gear. "This equipment isn't for show, Saiki. If you don't wear it properly, it won't be of any use in battle." His tone left no room for argument; this wasn't just training—it was a real test of her capability.
Moments of silence passed as Saiki carefully adjusted her gear with greater precision. Raio didn't move; he remained rooted in place, observing her like he was waiting for another slip-up or sign of weakness.
Finally, once she was sure she'd done it correctly, Saiki lifted her head and spoke in a low but firm voice: "Is this better now?"
Raio gave her a long, steady look before stepping closer. Then, in a calm voice, he said, "It's a good start."
Raio stepped closer with a sharp movement, his eyes fixed on what he saw as a mistake in how she wore the suit. A small, mocking smile curled on his lips, as though he was enjoying seeing her in this situation. There was nothing friendly about his expression; it was the kind of challenge that defined his character.
"You think you've got it right?" he said, stepping closer to place his hand on the gauntlet, the piece that had been particularly challenging for her. "Let me show you how it's done properly."
Saiki felt irritation rising at his mocking tone but fought against the growing embarrassment. She gave him the space to adjust the gauntlet, yet she couldn't stop herself from wondering, Why does he always have to be like this?
As Raio worked on securing the gauntlet, Saiki's eyes followed his every movement. It was clear he knew exactly what he was doing, each motion precise, yet his demeanor carried a sense of sarcasm in every step. He focused intently on the smallest details before smiling again and saying, "There. You need to be ready for anything."
He couldn't hide the smirk on his face, but this time, it was clear he was sending a message.
I looked at him, irritation bubbling inside me as anger began to creep in. His mocking smile made me want to slap him, but I swallowed my frustration and quickly turned my back on him. I didn't want to show any weakness, nor did I want to give him more reasons to ridicule me.
Grabbing the helmet, I began putting it on properly. Its weight pressed down on my head, but I knew I had to appear completely ready. I didn't need to adjust it again, but Raio's behavior had pushed me to. I hated how he scrutinized every move I made, as if he were waiting for me to mess up again. Sure, I'd made mistakes at the start, but that didn't justify the way he treated me.
I placed the helmet securely, feeling the pressure as it tightened around my head. I couldn't bear to show any sign of weakness in front of him, so I let go of the thoughts tugging at me—thoughts torn between my anger and my determination. Once I had finished adjusting it, I lifted my head to face him.
"Are you done?" I asked, trying to keep my tone calm even though my nerves were stretched thin.
I didn't look at him after that. This wasn't the time to exchange words or dwell on his actions. All I wanted was to be prepared for the task ahead, no matter what.
As Saiki prepared to respond, she suddenly felt an unexpected shift. The suit began to activate on its own, and the scene around her changed rapidly. The floor beneath her feet morphed, and the screens that had previously served as training tools transformed into a fully immersive simulation. The silver pendant she wore flashed briefly, signaling the start of the test.
The sky above her darkened, as though she had been transported into the middle of a battlefield. The sound of the wind grew louder, and faint, distant noises echoing through the trees erupted into sharper, more menacing sounds. In an instant, everything around her changed, as if she had stepped into a real war zone.
The familiar ground was now a treacherous terrain filled with hidden dangers: fields of mines buried under shifting sands, gaps in the earth that threatened to swallow her whole. The suit's systems fully immersed her in the simulation, replicating the harshness of the environment down to the wind dragging dust across her vision. Each step felt heavy, requiring precision and focus.
As the environment shifted, Raio stood in front of them, his sharp eyes scanning everything around him. His expression was blank, as though he had witnessed this simulation countless times before.
"Now," he said in a steady tone, his gaze unwavering, "it's time for the test."
Suddenly, Saiki's suspicions were confirmed as she realized the environment around her was a simulation of the legendary Black Spear Battle—one of the most significant and dangerous conflicts in the academy's history. The terrain was filled with hidden mines and countless hazards capable of ending the life of any unprepared soldier.
But the surprise lay in the absence of real enemies. Everything around them was an illusion, meticulously designed to test their reflexes, quick thinking, and ability to survive and adapt in a harsh environment.
For a moment, Saiki felt a wave of confusion as the world around her transformed into a battlefield. Sand swirled around her feet as if mocking her steps, and the sky had darkened, heavy and stormy. Though no visible enemy was present, the simulation replicated the sounds of war with unsettling precision—the distant rumble of explosions creeping closer, the rapid rustling of trees as if swayed by powerful winds.
A heavy weight pressed on her chest as she took in the ever-changing environment, but she quickly reminded herself: There are no real enemies here. This is just a test—a trial of my endurance and adaptability.
Raio stood watching them closely, his piercing gaze scrutinizing their every move. It was clear he wasn't just observing; he was evaluating how they would respond. There was no room for error in this simulation, as it was more than just ordinary training. It was a chance to push their limits and measure their resilience in the face of an unforgiving challenge.